Poirot was present when Jane bragged of her plan to "get rid of" her estranged husband. Now the monstrous man is dead. And yet the great Belgian detective can't help feeling that he is being taken for a ride - how can she have stabbed him to death at the same time she was seen dining with friends?
When a kindly widow is bludgeoned to death, the police arrest her lodger. The evidence seems ironclad. Is he guilty? Or is he being framed? Either way, the condemned man's time is running out, and only Hercule Poirot can help him.